


One Step Closer

by xXKobraKidXx



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:57:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXKobraKidXx/pseuds/xXKobraKidXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank hears that the new art teacher is pretty hot. As it turns out, he is really hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Am Going To Hell (1)

Chapter One

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I slammed my hand down, blindly pounding my alarm clock to make it stop. There was nothing I hated more than the sound my alarm clock made. I could just change it to a song I enjoyed, but that would ruin the song for me. I did that once and now every single time I hear that song I think about waking up in the morning and going to school. Did I say “school?” My apologies, I meant literal Hell. 

My advice for anyone who would like to have an enjoyable high school career is to not be the school’s gay punk. When you’re the school’s gay punk, you get shoved into lockers and called “faggot” more times than you should. Trust me, I speak from personal experience.

I rolled out of bed. Sure, I could have slept in, but there wasn’t much of a point to being late to school. They’ll still find you and plus, detention is not fun. My school isn’t like those movies where the teacher who watches over the kids in detention takes a nap and everyone texts and has fun. We could work on school work but we had to do so in silence and without internet access.  
I took a shower, letting the scorching water burn into my back. I didn’t feel it, though. I hadn’t been feeling much of anything lately, in all honesty. After I dried off, I continued my morning routine. My whole life was a routine. I was living on a schedule of nothingness. I had been doing the same shit since I started high school. I slipped into a pair of black skinny jeans (which is a struggle with damp legs, let me tell you), and some faded band shirt. 

I walked into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. I had given up on eating breakfast back in middle school. First of all, I did not have the time in the morning. Secondly, it made me physically ill to eat that early in the morning. I sipped on the hot liquid and thought about nothing in particular. 

“Good morning, Frank!” My mother greeted me, walking into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. “Are you actually going to eat breakfast today?” She joked.

“Sadly, Mother, I will not be joining you for your morning meal today.” We told the same joke to each other every morning. One of these days I will probably eat breakfast with her just to trip her up. 

I walked out of the kitchen and grabbed my backpack off of the floor. “I’m out!” I called to my mom as I walked out the front door. I walked to school or A.K.A. Hell. My walk was about two or three songs, depending on who came on shuffle. For those of you who would like a real time estimate, it’s about ten minutes. I put in my earbuds and tuned out the rest of the world.

-

My head slipped out of my hand. Thankfully, I caught myself before my head smacked into my desk. I had my head resting in my hand with my elbow propped up on my desk. I had almost fallen asleep. It wasn’t my fault I had history first hour or that Mr. Johnson was so goddamn boring.

The dude was like 80 years old and probably should have retired before I was born. I was honestly surprised that the school hadn’t pushed him towards retirement. Then again, teachers were in high demand and our school district needed more teachers as it is.

The bell rang and I trudged through the hallways to my next class, science with Ms. Allen. She wasn’t a bad teacher, just not that great. She tried and I had to give her props for that. It was simply that no one gave a flying shit about her lessons. 

“Hey, how is it going, emo fag?” Laughing followed this beautiful statement.

I walked straight ahead and ignored the bastards. I swear they had no life.

-

The bell releasing me to lunch finally fucking rang. I speed walked to our table. My table consisted of me, Chantal Claret, Ryan Ross, Pete Wentz, and Ray Toro. We were an interesting bunch to say the least.

As I sat down, Chantal handed me a styrofoam cup of lukewarm coffee. “Here you go. I still don’t understand how you can drink that. The school’s coffee is shit.” I shrugged and took a drink. It sucked crap, but it still was coffee. “Anyways, have you guys seen the new art teacher?” 

I glanced up at this. “What happened to Mrs. Jones? School started, like, a month ago.”

Chantal smirked. She knew the answer, of course. Chantal was always caught up in the teacher’s gossip. She spends her hour before lunch in the teacher’s lounge, which is how she smuggles me the crappy coffee. “She quit her job over the weekend. The district panicked to try to find someone to hire in her place and they ended hiring a guy that just got out of college. His name’s Mr. Way.”

Pete piped up, “Way like ‘which way?’ or weigh like ‘how much do these bananas weigh?’”

Chantal sighed. “Way, w-a-y. Anyways, he is pretty good looking.”

Ray frowned. “Please don’t tell me you plan on dating the art teacher, Chantal.” I snorted. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Chantal said. “I have Jimmy.” 

Chantal reached across the table and lightly slapped Ryan. “Stop staring at Brendon. Get over yourself, Ross. The guy doesn’t like you back, he’s pretty homophobic if you haven’t noticed before.” Brendon Urie was horrible to all of us, but especially Ryan and especially about Ryan being gay. Poor Ryan had a crush on the guy. I felt bad about it, but you can’t help who you have a crush on.  
Ryan sighed and picked at his food. Chantal poked me and whispered so only I could hear. “I think you’ll like the new art teacher. A lot. A lot a lot.” She smirked again and stood up. “Okay losers, I’m going to go talk to Jimmy.”

“Bye bitch,” Pete said back. It was normal in our group for names to be thrown around. It didn’t mean we didn’t love each other. If anything, it’s how some of us showed our affection.

Ray started talking about a new guitar he was going to buy. He had his eyes on it for awhile before he saved enough money to buy it. I was a little bit jealous, to be honest. 

The rest of lunch passed by uneventful except for when Pete spilled water on himself. 

-

English was okay, as always. I was looking forward to art. I wanted to see this new teacher. He was probably really lame, but I couldn’t help but get my hopes up a little bit.

I was almost to the classroom when a couple of guys pushed me against the locker. Damn it. If I wasn’t distracted I could have outrun them or gone a different way. I brought this on myself. A punch flew into my cheek. “Faggot.” One of them spit on me. I guess they decided something better was worth their time because they left me alone. 

I ran into the boy’s bathroom to check on my face. I didn’t want it to bruise. I glanced up into the mirror. “Shit,” I whispered as I lightly touched the already forming bruise. The bell rang, I was late for art. I sighed and splashed some water on my cheek. I was careful to avoid my eye, don’t want my eyeliner running, now do we?

I grabbed my backpack and lightly jogged to art. I sighed as I opened the door. Who I assumed to be Mr. Way looked up at me. Holy shit. Holy shit, this guy was hot. He had black hair that was messed up from him running his hands through it. He also had this mesmerizing pair of hazel eyes. “What’s your name?” I couldn’t even form an answer, that’s how hot this guy was. He looked me over, his eyes lingering on my cheek. “I won’t count you as late, don’t worry, but I do need to know your name so I can mark you as present.”

“Fr-Frank Iero.” I stuttered out. He nodded and updated the attendance. Mr. Way pointed his hand in the direction of the tables, signaling for me to sit. 

“All right, so as I was saying, I wanted to start off my time with you guys with an easy assignment. I would like you guys to create three pieces of art. It can be of anything or have any theme. You can use pencil, charcoal, watercolor, acrylic, I don’t really care. I just want to see what mediums you guys work with best and what everyone’s strong points are. These will be due Friday next week. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” He said and gave us a smile before going back to sit behind his desk. “Oh, and you can listen to music if you would like to. I know music can help inspire a lot of you. Just make sure you use earbuds, I don’t trust you guys with playing music out loud. Our tastes most likely conflict.” He chuckled and a couple of us did, too.

I put in my earbuds and hit shuffle. I opened up my sketchbook and just stared at the blank page. My thoughts were elsewhere. I was not thinking about artwork. Well, that depends on your definition of artwork. Mr. Way was a work of art. 

I ended up drawing a rough sketch of him. I did not have to worry about anyone seeing it. I sat in the back, alone at a table with this other girl. She had a trip to the mental hospital last year and everyone avoided her. Everyone avoided me, too. I didn’t know her name, but we were in agreement to not make awkward small talk. We mostly worked in silence, which was nice.

The bell rang and I packed up my stuff and got ready to walk back home. I was almost out of the door when Mr. Way said, “Frank, can you stay behind for a minute. I would like to speak with you.” I froze. Once everyone had exited the classroom, I walked over to the table closest to his desk and sat on top of it. Mr. Way walked around his desk and sat on top of it. We sat, facing each other, in silence for about a minute before he spoke.

“Frank, are you okay?” I didn’t speak, I didn’t trust myself to. I just nodded. He sighed. “I know we don’t know each other, but you can trust me, okay?” I nodded again. “Do you want to tell me how you got the bruise? It’s okay if you don’t.”

I considered lying for a moment, but for some reason I decided to tell the truth. “Just a couple guys at school. They seem to have a problem with my sexuality.” Mr. Way’s eyes widened for a second. It was him who nodded this time.

“If they give you anymore trouble give me a holler.” I smiled. It was forced, of course. 

“I will.” I promised. I won’t. I would probably break my promise by this time tomorrow. 

“That’s all, Frank.” I slid off of the table and almost made it out the door before he spoke again. “Oh, Frank, by the way, I like your shirt.” He smiled at me. I looked down at my Black Flag shirt and blushed. Goddammit, the art teacher made me fucking blush. I muttered out a thank you before I hurried out of Mr. Way’s classroom.

I rushed out of the school and made it home in record time. I didn’t even have time to listen to music. I flung open the front door and almost made it to the top of the stairs before my mother started talking. “Hey, Frank, can you come down here? I would like to talk to you.” I dropped off my backpack at the top of the staircase and made my way down the stairs.

“What’s up?” I asked as I sat next to my mother at the dining room table. 

She turned her head and stared at me. “Frank, I should be asking that question to you. You came home out of breath like you had been running and you have a bruise on your face. What happened?”

Shit, I forgot to ask Chantal for some  
concealer. I sighed. “I-uh, uh fell down?” My mom just gave me that look, that look that says ‘that is udder bullshit and you know it.’ I sighed again. “Just a couple of homophobic guys at school.”

She frowned. “If boys are bullying you, you need to report it to the principal.”

“Mom, I would, but the principal isn’t exactly the most accepting man. He would brush it off and the boys wouldn’t get in trouble. I know how it works in my school.”

“Just try to be careful, okay? If it gets out of hand, you can always go to the police.” I smiled at my mom. She had my back ever since I came out to her. Thank god she wasn’t homophobic, I don’t know what I would have done if she was. 

“Whoa there, Frankie! You’re sporting quite the bruise. Get into a fight over a girl?” My dad walked in. I wasn’t exactly, well, “out” to him yet.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get into a fight over a girl, Dad.” I mumbled.

“Why’s that?”

It was now or never, I figured. “I swing the other way.”

“Oh.” He stayed silent for a minute with my mother carefully watching him. “Are there any, uh, cute boys you got your eye on?”

Yes. He’s also my art teacher. “No.”

“Well, I gotta go. Got a meeting downtown. I’ll be back around seven.” He kissed my mom’s cheek and ruffled my hair before he was out the door. 

I went back up the stairs and into my bedroom where I flopped down onto the bed. So, my art teacher was extremely good looking and hate great taste in music. I was fucked. I didn’t have a crush on the guy, but I could just tell it wouldn’t be long. 

Why did I know I would probably end up in love with my art teacher? I just knew because I had that kind of luck. 

He just got out of college, at least according to Chantal, so he is probably what, like twenty-three? Twenty-four? I am seventeen. Not only is that probably a six or seven year age gap, it’s not even legal.

Well, I am turning eighteen in almost two weeks… I sometimes wish I could shut off my brain. I COULD NOT let myself get my hopes up. About anything. Because I know, in the end, I will only end up hurting myself. 

Falling in love was a form of self-destruction that I wanted nothing to do with. 

But, love, it is different. It’s not like drugs or anything else that you can control. You cannot control addiction, but there are still measures you can take, like not taking the drug in the first place or therapy or some shit. Love you have absolutely no control over. 

That is why love scares me so much. You have no control over it and you’re bound to get hurt. 

-

A knock came from my bedroom door. I watched as my dad walked in and sat down next to me on my bed. I closed my sketchbook and looked up at him, curious as to what he was doing. He almost never came into my room because I usually had music playing.

“I, uh, just wanted to thank you for telling me. I know that wasn’t easy for you. I may not understand it, but I just want you to know that you are my son and I support you no matter what. I love you and your sexuality does not change that.” My dad was almost mumbling. He felt nervous and awkward, but I could tell that he did mean his words.

“Thanks, Dad.” I offered him a small smile. “Your support means a lot.” He patted my knee twice before standing up and leaving. 

He definitely took that better than I expected. I had anticipated some yelling or frowning upon me being gay. I didn’t give my dad enough credit.


	2. Pete Wentz vs Ray Toro - The Fight of the Year

“All I am saying is that if a zombie apocalypse breaks out, our best bet is by far the abandoned warehouse about 3 blocks away from the mall. It’s secluded and has strong walls.” Pete said, almost aggressively. He and Ray were debating the best spot to go if a zombie apocalypse were to happen.

“But the farm off of 7th Street has been vacant for 30 years! Plus, everyone knows about the warehouse. That’s where all the drug deals happen. No one pays attention to the farm, which is why it is perfect.” Ray reasoned. I have to admit, he did have a point. 

“That farm is one rainstorm away from falling apart. The warehouse is really sturdy. What do you think Frank?” At this point Pete and Ray were full on fighting. Even though we were just debating zombie apocalypse hideout locations, me taking a side could lead in the end of my friendship with the other.

I sighed. “I am not picking sides. Both are equally terrible hiding spots.” Pete and Ray both gave me offended looks. 

“Too many people know about the warehouse, which eliminates that as an option. The farm is too far away from anything and all of the plants are long gone, so you would have no access to food. Also, those walls to the farmhouse are extremely weak. I agree with Frank, both are equally terrible.” I looked behind me to see who spoke up, and it was none other than Mr. Way. 

He was balancing a lunch tray with one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. He had his keys on a ring that were dangling off of his pointer finger. 

“Chantal, would you be a dear and grab my keys for me? I need someone to unlock my classroom since I only have two hands.” Teachers asking Chantal for assistance was surprisingly normal. She wasn’t a kiss up or anything, I guess they all just trust her because she spends her fourth hour in the teacher’s lounge. What was surprising about this was that Chantal rejected his offer. 

“I am sorry, Mr. Way, but I really have to finish my lunch as soon as possible and go to Ms. Allen’s classroom to help her clean up lab supplies. I promised her. Maybe Frank would go instead?” She started shoveling food into her mouth.

I stared at her, stunned. I was stunned that she volunteered me, not that she was shoveling food into her mouth. We didn’t expect anyone to have manners at this table. Mr. Way looked at me with a polite smile. I formed some sort of answer and stood up to grab his keys and lead him to his classroom. 

Mr. Way walked beside me and there was a really awkward silence. Neither of us really knew what to say. I broke the silence by nervously blurting out, “How old are you?” Mr. Way just raised an eyebrow at me. “Sorry, uh, it’s just that you’re fresh out of college, right?”

He smiled. “Yeah, fresh out of college. I’m twenty-two. How old are you?” Twenty-two? Damn, I could actually have a chance with this guy. After I turn eighteen it’s a four year age difference. 

I could tell that Mr. Way was asking me back in a teasing manner, but I still decided to answer. “I am almost eighteen.” He glanced at me expecting clarification because me answer was pretty vague. “I turn eighteen on Halloween.”

“You’re birthday is on Halloween? Dude, that is so cool!” Mr. Way’s eyes widened and he grinned. “If I was you, all I would do on my birthday is watch horror movies.”

I smiled. “That’s what I do anyways. I’ve been doing that since I was fourteen.” 

We had reached his classroom. I stuck the key in the door, unlocked it, and held it open for Mr. Way. He put his lunch tray down on his desk and took a sip of coffee from his mug. He frowned.

“I’ve honestly tried to convince myself that this coffee will do, but it’s not cutting it.” 

I chuckled. “Yeah, the school’s coffee is shit.”

Mr. Way narrowed his eyes at me. “And how would you know this, Mr. Iero?”

I shrugged. “I know people.” I paused, then said, “Chantal brings me a cup everyday at lunch. It’s shit, but at least it’s caffeine.”

“I’m thinking that I’ll just bring in my coffee maker from home. Please don’t tell any teachers, I don’t need them swarming my classroom and stealing my coffee.” Mr. Way was sitting on top of his desk again. I got the impression that he liked doing that.

“I won’t tell as long as you give me some everyday during lunch.” I smirked. I wouldn’t tell regardless, I just wanted some good coffee. 

“Deal.” Mr. Way nodded. “By the way, I like your shirt.”

I glanced down. I honestly didn’t have a clue to what band shirt I was wearing. Iron Maiden. “Thanks.” Why did this guy have to best so hot, offer me coffee, have good taste in music, like horror movies, but be my teacher? What does fate have against me? “I think I should go back to my table. I feel like I’ve wasted years here.”

I hesitated before walking out the door. I wanted to see if Mr. Way understood my reference. He looked confused for a second, then smiled. “Nice one, Frankie. You better go to lunch, be quick or be dead!” 

I grinned. Fuck. I was falling more and more for Mr. Way. My teacher. Who could blame me though, really? I referenced Iron Maiden and he threw a reference back. If that isn’t crush worthy material, I don’t know what is.

-

GERARD’S POV

I smiled. “Yeah, fresh out of college. I’m twenty-two. How old are you?” I asked this jokingly, of course. But I did want to know how old this kid was. I needed to make sure that my liking of one of my students was legal, for my conscious. Nothing was ever going to happen, I already hate myself for finding one of my students attractive. I would hate myself even more if he was underage. He probably is. I bet he is turning eighteen over the summer. 

“I am almost eighteen.” He said. I knew it. He’s turning eighteen in a year. I glanced up at him, completely masking my disappointment. What the hell is wrong with me?

“I turn eighteen on Halloween.” Whoa, hold up. Halloween is not only my favorite holiday, it is also in a week. One week and he will be legal. OKAY WHAT THE FUCK, BRAIN? I am sounding like a fucking pedophile. Well, it is only a four year age gap. No one would blink an eye at an eighteen year old and a twenty-two year old dating. It’s not my fault I’m his teacher. 

Jesus Christ, I need to drink some holy water as soon as possible. The fact that his birthday is on Halloween is awesome! I turn to him and say, “You’re birthday is on Halloween? Dude, that is so cool!” I grinned at him. “If I was you, all I would do on my birthday is watch horror movies.”

He grinned back at me. “That’s what I do anyways. I’ve been doing that since I was fourteen.” He just has to like horror movies, doesn’t he?

Frank and I approached my classroom door. He unlocked it and let me in first. I sat my tray down on my desk. I hesitantly took a sip of the coffee, already knowing that it was going to be gross.“I’ve honestly tried to convince myself that this coffee will do, but it’s not cutting it.” 

Frank lightly laughs and it was adorable. Fuck. “Yeah, the school’s coffee is shit.”

Wait, how does he know the school’s coffee is shit? Sure, it’s an easy assumption, but still, how does he get it? “And how would you know this, Mr. Iero?” I questioned curiously.

“I know people.” He pauses, obviously for the dramatic effect. “Chantal brings me a cup everyday at lunch. It’s shit, but at least it’s caffeine,” he reveals. Chantal sounds like a good person to be friends with, she knows all the teachers and has access to the lounge. Was Chantal his girlfriend? No, he said that those boys were giving him shit for his sexuality. I guess he could be bi or pan, though. It doesn’t matter, not like I am going to date him. Back to coffee.

Yesterday I had considered it, but today I had made my decision. This coffee is far too terrible to cope with. “I’m thinking that I’ll just bring in my coffee maker from home. Please don’t tell any teachers, I don’t need them swarming my classroom and stealing my coffee.” Knowing the teachers here, they totally would steal my coffee. I wasn’t exactly for buying a lot of coffee. I was financially stable, but I wasn’t rich. I am a teacher, one who just got out of college. Money did not grow on trees for me.

“I won’t tell as long as you give me some everyday during lunch.” Frank fucking smirked! Who the hell does this kid think he is? A really hot high school punk with dreamy eyes and a lip piercing to die for that will get free coffee from his teacher? Because if he thinks that, he is absolutely one hundred percent correct. 

“Deal.” I nodded. I pushed the fact that I just wanted to see him again into the back of my mind. “By the way, I like your shirt.” He was wearing an Iron Maiden shirt.

“Thanks.” He… blushed? Did I imagine that? Ugh. “I think I should go back to my table. I feel like I’ve wasted years here.” This wording seemed a little odd, so I went over his words again in my head. Ah, Wasted Years. The Iron Maiden song. Clever.

“Nice one, Frankie. You better go to lunch, be quick or be dead!” I shoot right back at him. I watch as his face lit up and he grinned before he walked out. 

Fuck, this kid was going to get me fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!! i hope y'all enjoyed, more updates will come! and i'm sorry that is was a little repetitive with the POV switch, i dont normally do that and it won't happen much in the future


	3. Gerard Meets the Parents

I practically bounced back to my lunch table. I was smiling. Me. I had a resting smile on my face. I never naturally smile, it’s almost always forced.

“Someone’s blushing.” Ray commented as he took a bite of his pizza. Ryan stopped staring longingly at Brendon to look at me. Pete glanced up at me and burst out laughing.

“Never thought I’d ever see Iero blush. Who is the guy?”

“Shut the fuck up, Wentz. Don’t make me smash your face in.” I glared at Pete.

Chantal smiled innocently at me. “How was Mr. Way?”

“What?” I said, there was a slight panic in my voice, but I tried to keep my cool. I didn’t want everyone to know I was crushing on the art teacher.

“You were gone for a few minutes. It doesn’t take that long to unlock a door, Iero. Did you and Mr. Way talk or something?” I just stared at Chantal, not knowing what to say.

Ryan raised an eyebrow and Pete fucking burst out laughing again. “Frank - Frank likes Mr. Way!” Pete was wheezing as he finished speaking. I shot death glares at his face until he stopped laughing.

Ray spoke up. “Before careful, Frank. Crushing on a teacher isn’t good.”

I sighed. “I know, but he’s only twenty-two.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Twenty-two? Once you turn eighteen, you might have a chance with the guy. Four years is not much of a gap.”

“He fucking likes the art teacher!” Does Pete Wentz know when to shut up? I don’t think he does.

“Peter!” Chantal frowned at him. “Try to take this seriously. This is Frankie’s love life!”

“More like lack of one.” Pete reached over and took a bite of one of Ray’s pizza slices.

“You’re one to talk.” Ryan sassed Pete. “When was the last time you had a crush, much less a significant other?”

Pete took another bite of Ray’s pizza. “Shut up, Ross. At least I don’t like one of the school’s homophobes.”

“Get your own damn pizza.” Ray smacked Pete’s shoulder. 

“Chantal, didn’t you have to go Ms. Allen’s classroom to clean up shit?” I desperately wanted everyone to focus on something else.

“Nah, I lied so that Iero would get some quality time with Mr. Way.” Chantal smirked.

“I hate you guys.” Pete pretended to be offended, Chantal rolled her eyes, Ray was focused on his pizza, and Ryan was back to staring at Brendon. 

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch that seemed to last for all of eternity.

-

I walked out of Ms. Clark’s classroom and into the horrid school hallways. We were starting a poetry unit in English which was cool, I guess. We were getting more details about it tomorrow.

“Yo, fag! Where you off to?”

I ignored it and kept walking. Hopefully they would leave me alone. 

“Are you ignoring us?” 

I turned around. It was a group of guys, I didn’t know all their names, but Brendon was among them. “What do you want?”

One of them smirked. “You.”

“You want me? That’s pretty gay, man. I’m sorry, but you’re not my type, hun.” My words dripped with venom. I totally should have received an award for that comeback, it was perfect. I could have sworn Brendon snorted, but he covered it up with a cough.

I guess that wasn’t the response he wanted to hear; next thing I know, I’m being pushed up against the lockers. The lock dug into my back, causing me to cringe. “Take that back, faggot.” I didn’t even get to answer before a fist met my face. Thankfully it wasn’t full force, I didn’t need anymore bruises. 

I fell to my knees, a hand over the spot where I was punched. My eyes were closed as I felt a shock of pain ride through my body, starting at my ankle. I fell down completely. The bell rang and the boys scattered off in the directions of their classrooms. I limped into the boy’s bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face to reduce the redness. My ankle fucking hurt. I limped the way to art class. Hopefully Mr. Way would let my tardiness slide by again.

I walked into the classroom and Mr. Way looked up at me with a worried expression. He didn’t say anything as I limped to my usual seat, but I could feel his eyes boring into my ankle.

The class continued as expected, we got to work on our three pieces. By the end of the hour, I had a rough sketch of someone playing guitar. You couldn’t see who it was because their hair covered their face. I decided I would just work on it again later. 

When the bell rang at the end of the school day, Mr. Way gave me a look. I decided to stay behind to see what he wanted. 

After all of the students cleared out he said, “Frank, are you okay?” I liked that he didn’t ask me what happened because he knew that I wouldn’t tell him this time. Also, it showed he cared about my well being more than getting a power trip on knowledge. I always respect that.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I got up from my stool and winced as I put weight onto my left ankle. Mr. Way raised an eyebrow. “Okay, uh, I hurt my ankle.”

Mr. Way walked over to where I was standing. He pushed against my shoulder, causing me to lose balance, so I fell back onto my stool again. He dragged another stool close and sat down on it. He pulled my left leg up and rested my foot on his thigh. Mr. Way rolled up my pant leg slightly, revealing my ankle. He frowned at it. My ankle was already red and bruised. His fingers lightly grazed across it as he examined my ankle. I hope Mr. Way didn’t notice that I shivered. 

“I think it’s just twisted, but you’ll definitely want to stay off of it and ice it.” I nodded. “How do you get home?’

“I, uh, walk.” Mr. Way frowned again. “My house is like a ten minute walk away.”

“You won’t be able to walk that far with your ankle like that.” Mr. Way reached out his hand and pulled me up to my feet. “I can give you a ride home.” He stood on my left side and put his arm around my shoulders and I, naturally, put my arm around his waist for support. We walked over to his desk, where he grabbed his bag and keys.

“Thank you, Mr. Way.” He turned to smile at me and nod. Our faces were awfully close… What the fuck? He’s my teacher. Frank, you already came to the conclusion that you like the guy, there’s no need to be in denial about it. And now I am having conversations with myself, great.

We hobbled along campus. It went a little quicker because I started putting weight on my ankle, but it hurt like hell. Mr. Way and I reached his car. He lead me to the passenger's side and opened the door for me. His hand moved to the small of my back to help me in; I pretended not to notice. You can bet your life savings I did, though.

Mr. Way got into the driver’s side and started the car. He turned off the stereo before any music could start playing. “Where do you live?” Mr. Way asked. I told him my address. Once we had pulled out of the school parking lot, I reached forward and turned the music on. What, I was curious what CDs the guy had in his car. Can you blame me?

I recognized the band almost immediately. “Smashing Pumpkins, nice.” I commented. Mr. Way smiled and nodded. After a minute or so, he started humming along. It was really cute.

“You can sing if you want, you know. I won’t stop you, this is your car.” 

“No, I don’t sing.” He turned a shade of red in the face. He totally does sing. I know a liar when I see one.

“I’m sure you have an amazing voice.” Mr. Way shook his head no. I grinned. One day I plan on hearing him sing. We sat in silence until we pulled up to my house. Well, silence if you don’t count music. I unbuckled my seatbelt and before I could even get out the car, Mr. Way had opened the door for me. He helped me walk up to my front door and rang the doorbell, since I left my key at home today.

My mom answered the door. “Hello, Frank!” She smiled at Mr. Way with a glint in her eye. She probably thought he was my boyfriend. Well, we did have our arms wrapped around each other and we were both somewhat blushing. “Who is this?”

“Hi ma’am. I’m Gerard Way.” He stuck out his left hand for my mom to shake, since his right one was around my shoulders. Gerard. Gerard Way. I liked it. Sure, I could’ve asked Chantal what his first name was, she most likely knew, but it was nice to hear him say it. “Frankie here twisted his ankle at school so I gave him a ride home.” Frankie. Frankie? F-r-a-n-k-i-e. I always hated it when people called me Frankie, but I didn’t mind it coming from Mr. Way.

“That was awfully sweet of you!” My mom was almost gushing. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” NO. OH MY GOD PLEASE DO NOT SAY YES. I would not be able to deal with that, mentally.

I think Mr. Way (Gerard? Should I start referring to him as ‘Gerard’ in my thoughts?) noticed me tense and display a slightly panicked expression, so he spoke up. “I’m sorry, but I have plans tonight. Maybe some other time?” He smiled at my mom. She nodded.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Gerard. Have a good evening!”

“You too, ma’am!” Gerard replied. I hobbled into my house and watched him drive away from the window by the door. I just noticed how he never introduced himself as my teacher. Why would he not?

“Is he your boyfriend?” My mom looked at me with questioning eyes as she closed the front door.

“I wish.” I decided to leave out the part that he was my teacher. That wouldn’t go over too well, now would it?

“He seemed pretty into you.” What? I looked up at my mom. “Did you not see how he was blushing and how his arm was around you? I don’t mean to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you should ask him out.”

I stared at her for a couple of seconds before I finally said something. “That’s probably not going to happen.” She sighed and gave me a sympathetic smile. I wonder what her reaction would be if she knew that she had just advised me to ask out my teacher.

“Tell me about him.” My mom was grinning. She was really enjoying this because I pretty much never talked to her about what was going on in my life. She handed me a glass of water and I sat down across from her.

I took a drink of water and sighed. “Maybe later. I want to get to know him a little better.” I stood up from the table.

She nodded. “You better tell me about him later. I expect great things.” I laughed as I walked up the staircase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! sorry for the false advertising, considering gerard only met frank's mom  
> and also sorry for the delayed update, it's been a rough week


	4. Ryan Continues to Stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk just read it

About three hours later, my mom called me downstairs for dinner. Dinner was always at 6:30 in the Iero household. 

“Frank, dear, can you set the table?” My mother was standing in front of the stove stirring a pot. Oh yeah, tonight was spaghetti. I know setting tables isn’t really a punk thing, but you wouldn’t argue with me if you knew how good my mom’s cooking was. She only cooked on Friday nights now. She always believed that we should go into the weekend relaxed, and that’s why she cooked on Fridays. 

My dad sat down at the dining table, followed by me. My mother gave each of us our plates. 

“Thank you, honey.” My dad smiled. Mom gave him a nod.

She sat down, then spoke up. “Frank has a boyfriend.”

I felt the spaghetti drop from my mouth. My dad gave me a questioning look. “I, uh, no, I do not have a boyfriend.”

My mom smirked. “Well, at least not yet. He seems like such a nice young man, I can’t wait to get to know him better.” Shit. My mom was going to eventually find out that he is my art teacher. I’ll just see how long I can go without telling her. 

My dad nodded. “If you’re mother approves, then that’s enough for me.” HahaHAHAHA. It’s not like he is my fucking teacher or anything. 

My mom grinned, then. “He called me ‘ma’am’.”

“Maybe Frank will pick up some manners from him.” 

“Hey!” I protested. “I’m polite.” Both of my parents raised an eyebrow at me. “When I want to be,” I added, rather timidly.

We carried on with small talk throughout the meal. My dad complained about his boss, my mom told stories about customers. 

My mom cleared her throat. “So, my boss wants me to stop working from home. He said that I can of more use if I start going to the office again. I am for it, but I just wanted to clear it with you two.”

My dad nodded and added, “Do whatever pleases you, sweetheart.”

I nodded, too. “Why would I have a problem with it?”

“Well, the reason I started working at home was because your father and I didn’t want you home alone all the time. Since you’re older now, I don’t see the problem anymore. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with being home alone.” My mom looked at me, expecting an answer.

“Sure.” I took another bite of spaghetti. I honestly preferred having the house to myself. I can play my music louder and have a house-wide dance party without anyone seeing me. Dancing was fun, but it wasn’t like I would do it in front of my parents. Talk about embarrassment.

\- 

“Mr. Iero!” Mr. Johnson shouted. I snapped awake. “When did the American Civil War start?”

“Mr. Johnson, we aren’t studying the American Civil War.” I protested.

“Answer the question.”

“Uh… 1860?” I guessed.

“No, 1861.” Are you kidding me? Wasn’t my answer close enough? Mr. Johnson threw a stack of papers on my desk. “Since you fell asleep in my class and got the question wrong, I don’t want to see you in my classroom. Go take these to Mr. Way. He left them in the copy machine.”

I grabbed the papers and speed walked out the door. I was just thankful he didn’t give me detention. Last time he caught me sleeping I had two days of detention. Old bastard.

I opened the door to Mr. Way’s classroom and carefully stepped in. “Try using dry brush for that part of the painting.” Mr. Way looked up as the door closed behind me. He smiled. “What’s up, Frank?”

I smiled back and walked towards him. “Mr. Johnson told me to give these to you.” I handed him the stack of papers.

He flipped through the pages, scanning them with his hazel eyes. “Thank you. Must’ve left these in the copy room. Thank you, again. Have a good morning, Frank.” Mr. Way winked at me. Did he really just-? He really did just wink at me. Okay.

“Uh, you too, Mr. Way.” I stuttered out. I made my way towards the door and was happy when I was in the hallway again. What is that man doing do to me?

-

Ryan Ross was staring at Brendon Urie. Honestly, this was nothing new. This time, though, we were all staring at Ryan. Was he completely oblivious to the fact that we were all staring at him? 

Chantal whispered. “Should we say something?”

“No.” Pete immediately replied. Ray sighed, obviously bored. Pete rolled his eyes at Ray and spoke again at a higher volume. “Hey, Ross, I hear if you stare at someone long enough they suddenly change their beliefs and fall in love with you!”

Ryan shot death glares at all of us. “Hey, can you guys maybe pick on someone else’s love life for once?”

I spoke up. “Well, Chantal’s is going pretty well. She has Jimmy. And Pete’s love life is like a dry river. Dead and gone and only exists in memories. Also, Ray isn’t that much to tease. So, Ross, our options are limited.”

“There’s always you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wentz. You know I have nothing going on.” I snapped back.

“Mr. Way.” Chantal said, while smirking. I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously guys, please just drop it for my sake.” I pleaded.

“Mr. Way.” Chantal repeated.

“Please.” I was practically begging at this point. It was quite pathetic, but I did not like to have my love life picked apart.

“No. Mr. Way is right behind you.” Chantal said. I hurriedly turned around and was met with my smiling art teacher.

“Hi Frank!” He greeted me. “I was serious about the offer for coffee.”

“You were?” I questioned. I figured that he was just being polite at the time.

“Yep.” His smile widened. Fuck, he was absolutely fucking adorable and he was ruining my life. 

“Well, Frank, go on.” Pete raised his hand to dismiss me, as if I needed permission. “We all know you’re always a slut for caffeine.” 

My eyes widened and I felt my cheeks flush. Did Pete really have to call me a slut in front of Mr. Way? I know it wasn’t in a sexual context but, still, the word itself was bad enough.

I stood up from my lunch table, grabbed my bag, and followed Mr. Way to his classroom. I was about to get me some free coffee.

-

Our cups of coffee were long gone by now. Neither of us seemed to notice or at least care. We were way too into our conversation about going in depth about the character Luke Skywalker.

“Yeah, he’s like a hero to me.” Gerard finished what he was saying and blushed. He looked down into his empty cup and swung his legs. We were sitting on the edges of the art tables across from each other.

After Gerard’s well, dorky but adorable, confession, we reached a comfortable silence. I still can’t believe that this gorgeous man is willing to spend time with me. And when I say gorgeous, I don’t just mean good-looking, I mean stunningly beautiful. I can’t even begin to describe him. His face is so perfect it’s a little unsettling. His eyes are fucking perfect and his nose is so adorable, especially his nostrils.

I can assure you that I never thought I would ever call someone’s nostrils “cute,” but here we are. I can also assure you that I never thought that I would want to fuck my art teacher, but here we are. 

The bell rang and Mr. Way almost looked disappointed. Maybe I was making it up. “I better get going.” I swung off of the table and onto the floor. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. 

“It was nice talking to you, Frank.” Mr. Way smiled at me.

“You too, Mr. Way.”

“You know you can call me ‘Gerard’ if you want to.” He proposed.

I smiled. “Whatever you say, Gerard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i suck at summaries!! but i hope y'all enjoyed, even though im not too happy w/ this chapter. it felt like a boring filler but i also felt the gerard/frank need to stay pretty casual?? idk but the plot will progress soon!!  
> also i'm going in and making slight changes, just spacing and when i made my first draft i put in filler names until i figured out who was going to be who and apparently i left some in the first chapter so if there is any confusion, chad = jimmy and idk how i missed that!!! and if you ever have any questions or if there are holes, please ask!!! <3


	5. Pizza: The Perfect Birthday Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ray toro gives the best presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for the late update!!!! I lost track of time and i'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again!!

I woke up in a better mood than I normally do. Today was October 31st, also known as Halloween, also known as my birthday. I am eighteen years old. I can buy my own cigarettes and (legally) alcohol in most parts of the world. Just three more years and I’ll be able to shop at other alcohol stores than the one by the gas station just because Kitty works there.

I met Kitty about a year ago at someone show and we hit it off, as friends of course, she’s like 27, I am not going to date her. I found out she worked at the store and we struck up an agreement. I am limited to one case of beer or one bottle of whatever per week. Which may sound limiting, because it is, but Kitty is really nice and does not charge extra like everyone else.

I walked into my math class with a small smile on my face, not even school could ruin my mood.

“What are you smiling about, Iero?” Mrs. Thomas demanded. 

Jesus Christ. Can’t I just be happy for once? 

“It’s Halloween and his birthday, give him a break,” said Ryan. 

I smiled at Ryan as I slid into my desk. “Thanks, man.”

“You are finally 18 now!” Ray said, turning towards us.

“Which means I can buy my own cigarettes,” I smirked. Mrs. Thomas shot another glare in my direction before starting the lesson.

-

I sat down at the lunch table and was greeted by a surprised look from everyone.

“You’re not abandoning us for Mr. Way?” Chantal asked in a fake, shocked tone.

I glared at all of them. “Shut the fuck up. As if I’d leave you guys on my birthday.”

Ray slide a slice of pizza towards me. “Happy Birthday! Slice is left over from last night, so it’s fresh.” I took the piece and grinned at Ray to show my thanks.

“Any plans for tonight?” Pete questioned.

“Ugh, nope. Parents think they need to have a special dinner to welcome me into adulthood.” That was a lie. I planned on getting drunk by myself, no company required.

Ryan gave me a sympathetic look. “Bummer.”

I just nodded. Spending your eighteenth birthday alone was a bummer, but that was how I wanted it. 

-

Five minutes. Five more minutes and school would be out and I could go to Kitty’s, buy some vodka, and get wasted. Happy birthday to me.

The dismissal bell rang and I got up from my seat. On my way out, Mr. Way smiled at me and wished me a happy birthday. Fuck him. His smile made me almost want to be sober. I was almost out the door when he said, “Make sure to watch some good films, Frankie.” 

Why did he have to be nice? I made sure to smile back at him.

-

Kitty smiled at me when I walked through the door. “Happy Halloween! What will it be today, Frank?”

I smiled politely back. “Throwing a party, what is your cheapest vodka?”

She walked behind a shelf and picked up a bottle. Kitty scanned it and opened the palm of her hand. I put the cash in her hand and she nodded at me. “Have a great party!”

-

I contemplated life while listening to music on my walk back home. What else is there to do?

The key got stuck in the door but it eventually opened. Home alone. 

This was expected for two reasons. One, both my parents had work, but my mom most likely would have taken the day off if I asked her to. Two, I had told my parents I was going out with friends.

I dropped of my backpack and fell backwards on to the couch, clutching the bottle of vodka to my chest. I felt alone. I felt content.

My cell phone rang. I glanced down at the screen. The contact read “mom” so I answered right away.

“Hello?”

“Happy Birthday, Sweetie! Just wanted to check up on you and make sure that you got home okay. What are you doing tonight, again?”

“Yep, I’m fine. Some friends and I are going to hit up some Halloween parties later.”

“Okay. Just make sure to be back before noon tomorrow! Call me if you need anything.”

‘Sure thing, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I tossed my phone beside me and sighed. Well, this was better than last year. Last year I went to a Halloween party and locked myself in a room alone with a bottle of fireball. 

I glanced down at the bottle in my hand and I didn’t recognize the brand. This didn’t surprise me since I didn’t know much about any alcoholic beverages besides wine. Both of my parents had very strong opinions and loads of weird, useless facts about some French wines.

It was just over 10 bucks and had a chocolate cake flavor. I unscrewed the cap and took a sip. It was gross and it burned.

Perfect.

-

It was almost eight o’clock and I was drunk, to say the least. Future me was going to hate current me for a killer hangover, but sadly, current me did not give a shit.

I leaned further back into the lamp post I was sitting up against. My head tilted up right into the light, but I could not be bothered to move it. I took another swig.

A car pulls up near me on the side of the road. I heard the driver turn off their car and slam the door. The person was wearing boots; I could tell by their heavy foot falls.

“Frank?”

I felt the person grow nearer until they crouched down next to me. At this point, I decided to stop staring up into the flickering street light and look at the person who was right next to me. After all, if they kidnap me I need to know what their face looks like for the police reports.

I looked to my left.

Mr. Way.

“Hey, Mr. Way,” I slurred. “Happy Halloween.”

“Oh dear god,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s get you up.” He grabbed me from underneath my arms and lifted me up into a standing position. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“Nahhhhh, parents think I’m out.”

“Any friends you can crash with?”

“Nope.”

I heard him sigh. “Do you want to stay with me? I just can’t leave you on the street.”

I nodded. Mr. Way guided me into the passenger seat and buckled me in before getting into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Frankie, you good?”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoyed!! sorry this chapter wasn't that happy :/ also for the choppiness, next chapter will be better! xo


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written in g's pov since frank is a bit drunk!

I pulled my car into the garage and turned the engine off. Frank made a sound that vaguely resembled a snore. I sighed, unbuckled both of our seat belts, and got both of us into my house. Frank collapsed onto my couch.

My hand ran over my face in frustration. What the hell was I doing? I frantically unlocked my phone and called my brother.

“Gee?”

“Yeah, Mikey. It’s me.”

“You okay? Something tells me you aren’t just calling me to wish me a happy Halloween considering you did that this morning in a text with far too many emojis.”

“Shut up, Michael. You have no right to critique my texting techniques. I’m calling because I am trying to not freak out due to the fact that there is a drunk student currently passed out on my couch.”

Even though we were not face to face, I could tell that Mikey was rolling his eyes. “Frank?”

“How did you know?”

“He’s the only student you would let sleep on your couch.”

I bit my lip. “Mikey, he was alone on the side of road. Drunk. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I couldn’t’ve just left him there. He could’ve gotten murdered or kidnapped or something.”

I was greeted with silence. “Look, I just want to know what to do.”

“Gee, you know how to handle a drunk person. Give him something to eat, let him sleep it off, and then give him painkillers whenever he wakes up.”

A sigh of relief escaped me. This situation was manageable. “Thank you.”

“One last thing,” Mikey paused. “You are too nice. It’s going to get you in trouble one day. Bye.” He hung up.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I gently shook Frank awake and presented him a glass of water and a plate of crackers.

“Thanks.”

After Frank finished his water and crackers and sobered up a tad bit, I led him over to my bookshelf with my rather impressive collection of movies.

“Take your pick. You know, since it’s your birthday and you’re drunk off your ass.”

Frank snorted. His fingered followed his eyes as he skimmed over the dvd cases. His pointer finger lingered on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I smirked and pulled it out.

I popped the disc into the dvd player. I quickly refilled our cups of water before jogging back to the couch before the movie started.

He sat on the opposite side of couch, cuddled up with a blanket. It was adorable.

-

The movie ended and I glanced at Frank on the other side of the couch. He looked passed out, so I nudged him gently with my foot.

“Hunnh… what?”

“It’s time to go to bed. You can use my bed.”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed; this is your house.”

“Sleeping on the couch will mess up your back.”

“If you sleep on the couch, it will mess up your back, too.”

“Iero, I’m not going to be the one with the killer hangover.” I placed both my hands on my hips at this point. I was not going to let him win this.

“I am not moving. Deal with it.”

I smirked. “You win.”

I walked into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. Fifteen minutes later, I walked back into the living room to find Frank completely passed out. I rolled my eyes and picked the little fucker up bridal style. 

I plopped him down onto my bed and draped a blanket over him. I walked back into the kitchen, popped open a bottle of painkillers, and poured two out onto a napkin. I carried a glass full of water and the napkin of painkillers back into my bedroom. I quietly placed them down on the nightstand, not wanting to wake Frank up. 

I stood back and bit my lip, glancing at Frank. Is there anything else I should do for him? What else do you need to help with a hangover? Food and coffee. 

My eyes widened as I grabbed a stack of sticky notes and a pen. Wait, would all I want to say fit on this sticky note? I shouldn’t write a lot, I don’t want to make him think first thing in morning. But I need to tell him things. Frustrated, I grabbed a larger pad of paper and started writing.

Good morning! I hope you are feeling fine, there are some painkillers just in case your head hurts. If you are feeling hungry or need your coffee, please come wake me up and I will make you breakfast and a cup of joe. I am sleeping on the couch. If you are feeling sick, which hopefully you are not, the bathroom is the first door on the right. I think that is it.  
Gee

I sighed, unexplainingly nervous as I placed the note down on the nightstand. 

I had left my bedroom, or Frank’s bedroom for the time being, and started pacing up and down the hallway before admitting defeat by pulling my phone out to call Mikey.

“What do you want this time?”

“It’s great to talk to you too, Mikey! I’ve missed my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.”

“Well, in that case, you are also my least favorite brother.”

Mikey sighed. “Dear Lord, why must you test my patience through my brother like this?”

“You aren’t religious.”

“Gee, why did you call me? It’s late.”

“I’m nervous. Like what if I am doing something wrong and I don’t know it?”

“Honestly, you are a great host. Frank just had too much to drink. Give him bread or something in the morning, I don’t know. You will be fine, Gerard.” MIkey sounded annoyed but sincere. 

I whispered, “Okay.” My hand flew up to my face, rubbing my eye, anxiously. I repeated myself. “Okay. I’m going to go sleep on the couch. Goodnight, Mikey.”

“Goodnight.” He hung up.

I opened up the hall closet to grab an extra pillow and threw it on the couch. I paced over, collapsing onto the couch. Now, let’s try to get a good night’s sleep. And do not, under any circumstances, think about the cute boy in your bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be better!! sorry this isn't the best :( xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all enjoyed! more chapters to come =)


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